


I Feel Fine

by robinwritesallthethings



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Apocalypse, Breast Fucking, F/M, Foot Fetish, Language, Oral Sex, Romance, Self-Insert, Series, Vaginal Sex, Vampire Slaying, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-04-17 03:59:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14180082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthethings/pseuds/robinwritesallthethings
Summary: It’s the end of the world as we know it.





	1. That's Great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin goes to work. Negan makes a booty call. The apocalypse begins.

**Robin**

I adjust my habit one more time, checking my reflection in the window of the van.

I’m not actually a nun, so I suppose I’m being blasphemous or something, but hey, it’s a great disguise. No one questions the presence of a nun with a flower cart.

I enter the building and head toward the elevator, knocking on every door I pass on the way and handing out free flowers.

When I reach the second floor, though, I head straight for the apartment at the end of the hall. I don’t knock because I have a key.

I push the flower cart inside before shutting and locking the door behind me. The rooms seem deserted, but I know better.

The windows are covered in thick drapes that don’t let any light through. The kitchen cabinets are completely empty, and there’s nothing in the fridge. It’s obvious that the stove has never been used.

The bathroom is spotless. When I open the medicine cabinet, I find that it’s full of toothbrushes, though there’s no toothpaste or mouthwash to be found.

The bedroom door has several large padlocks on it.

“Amateur hour.” I roll my eyes as I retrieve the bolt cutters from my flower cart.

I push the door open carefully after I’ve cut the locks off and stashed them and the bolt cutters in the flower cart. It creaks on its hinges and I hold up the cross I’m wearing around my neck as a precaution.

“I believe you’re about to be royally fucked,” I say clearly and succinctly. The cross flashes and begins to glow blue.

He’s definitely here. Not that I ever doubted it.

The bed is neatly made. It sits on a heavy wood base with a large drawer in it.

I smirk. This one has no finesse at all.

I bring the flower cart into the room and open it, taking off my habit so it stays clean while I get to work.

I spread a shower curtain out on the floor beside the bed, laying a garlic sachet, duct tape, a worn machete, and a long wooden stake on top of it.

I carefully pull on a homemade pair of iron chainmail gloves and then slide the drawer open.

The vampire’s left eye is open. Creepy fuckers love to do that shit. It freaks people out if they find them asleep. Luckily, I’m used to it.

His lips curl back from his long fangs menacingly. Before he can lunge or hiss, I smash the garlic sachet into his mouth and duct tape it shut.

His screams are muffled nicely. He twitches and thrashes as I drag him out of the drawer onto the shower curtain.

Thank goodness he’s of the gaunt and pale variety. The last one I killed was a gluttonous bastard who liked to overfeed, and I had to pop him before I could get him out of the building. It’s hard to control, and that particular time, blood got fucking everywhere.

This should be far simpler.

I grab the machete and bring it down on the vampire’s neck, severing his head from his body. He continues to twitch as I wrap the head in a plastic bag and stick it in the flower cart.

He obviously hasn’t fed recently, because there’s not much blood at all. Something’s on my side today.

I jam the stake into his chest, grinning as I hit his heart on the first try.

I pull the stake back out and grab another garlic sachet, sticking it in the heart cavity.

The body stops writhing after a moment. I wrap it in the shower curtain and stick it in the flower cart along with my gloves.

There’s nothing to clean up. I shut the drawer and put my habit back on before leaving the apartment.

I knock on a few more doors on my way back to the elevator and hand out the rest of my flowers, keeping just one bouquet back.

I stop at the office on my way out. The manager’s eyes widen as I give him the red tulips that are our signal that the job was done.

He takes the flowers and slips a thick envelope into my hand. “A donation for the needy, ma’am,” he explains shakily.

“Thank you, sir. You’re very kind.”

Outside, I roll the flower cart up the ramp into the van. The manager will take care of the apartment and everything in it.

There will be no trace left of our vampire friend.

I drive to my cabin on the outskirts of town, parking in the back near my burn barrel. I’m completely hidden from view here, so I take off the habit once more before removing the body and head from the flower cart.

I place them in the burn barrel, throw in a few pieces of wood, a full gallon of garlic cloves, and light the whole thing up. A long tongue of blue flame erupts from the barrel as everything in it sizzles and starts to burn down to ash.

My phone rings, blaring “Sex Bomb” by Tom Jones. I giggle, dancing for a second before I answer it.

“Hi, Negan!” I greet him.

“Hey, lover. What the fuck are you up to?” His voice is deep and husky. It never fails to send a shiver up my spine.

“Coming to see you?” I wonder.

He laughs heartily. “Great minds fucking think alike, lover. I’ll be home in an hour.”

“I’ll be there,” I assure him.

A clean vampire hit. A fat stack of cash. And a booty call from my favorite man to get between the sheets with.

It’s turning out to be a really great day.

**Negan**

When I open my door a little over an hour later, Robin is standing in front of me in a nun’s habit.

She blows me a kiss and winks.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

“Holy shit,” I mutter. “That’s fucking hot.”

She giggles and bats her eyes at me.

“Um, I have to make you do some fucking penance, huh? Something that requires you being on your knees, maybe?”

She steps inside, grabbing my shirt and pulling my mouth down to hers. “I think that sounds perfect,” she purrs, sucking my lower lip into her mouth as her other hand finds my crotch and cups it, squeezing eagerly.

“You’re a fucking sex kitten today, lover,” I murmur.

“Aren’t I always?”

She’s got a point.

I shut the door and lick my lips, my tongue flicking against hers at the same time. “Why don’t you show me that fucking gorgeous body, lover?” I request.

She steps back and undoes the habit, letting it fall to the floor.

She’s not wearing anything underneath it.

My track pants instantly feel tighter.

Robin’s a real fucking knockout. I couldn’t believe it when she walked into the hole-in-the-wall little bar that I like to frequent.

Her coming home with me wasn’t as hard to believe. I happen to be a fucking catch, after all.

“Are you just gonna stare?” Robin shimmies her hips.

I chuckle. “I can’t fucking help that you’re a goddamn vision, lover.”

I linger for another moment, letting my eyes sweep up her body. Smooth, pale skin. Thick thighs, plump ass, round hips. She’s in good shape, but her tummy has a little bit of the feminine curve that I like. Perfect tits.

Perfect, perfect fucking tits.

Adorable round face. Full pink lips. Sparkling hazel eyes. Wild, messy, wavy light brown hair that falls to her chin.

She’s easy, too. Not sexually. Well, okay, yes, sexually, but I mean in terms of what she wants.

We have sex, we hang out at the bar, we watch sports together, and she’s not pushy about any of it.

She’s the kind of woman you want to keep forever, and I’m trying to figure out how to bring that up without freaking her out. I’m honestly not sure how she’d take it.

But I can think about that later. For now…

I walk over to her, cupping and lifting her tits. “Mmm,” she moans. “I love your hands, Negan.”

“Hopefully you like my fucking mouth too,” I growl, bending and sucking one of her pretty pink nipples between my lips.

I tease her with my tongue, squeezing and kneading her before switching breasts, nipping at her skin as I move between them before playfully biting the upturned peaks. She runs her fingers through my hair as mine find their way between her legs to tease her folds.

“Bed, Negan!” she demands.

I kiss my way to her mouth as I grab her ass and bounce her into my arms. She giggles happily. She loves it when I pick her up. I set her on the bed and strip my t-shirt off before leaning in to kiss her again.

She peels my pants and boxer briefs down, then runs her hands through the hair on my chest and stomach as she swallows me whole.

“Fucking goddamn, lover.” I run a hand through my hair, then run both hands through hers, gathering it into a loose ponytail at the back of her head as she starts to bob on me.

She gives the greatest fucking head I’ve ever gotten.

She pulls back to tease my tip, flicking her tongue over and around it, her eyes glancing up to me as I groan contentedly.

She starts to take my cock in over and over, sucking on it noisily, getting it nice and wet.

Then she slides back on the bed, laying out flat, squeezing her tits together for me teasingly.

I push my clothes off the rest of the way and join her, kneeling near her head, stroking her hair and running my other hand over her chest as she takes me back into her mouth.

“That’s it, lover,” I whisper. “Fuck, your fucking mouth feels so good. But I want to feel these fucking titties too…”

I straddle her chest, reaching down and pushing her tits together around my aching cock. She helps, biting her lip as I pluck at her nipples and start to thrust.

At first, I make my strokes shallow, feeling the soft curves of her breasts jiggle around me. Then I start to thrust harder, letting the tip of my cock peek out of her cleavage each time, knowing that she’ll start to suck it again.

I thrust a few more times, then just hold her tits softly against my shaft as she enthusiastically goes down on me.

When I reach behind me to tease her folds again, she moans around me, sending vibrations up and down my dick.

“I want to fuck you, lover,” I tell her, leaving out that I want to fuck her every morning when she wakes up beside me, every night before we go to sleep, and any time that she wants it in between.

“Then what’s stopping you?” she challenges, reaching behind her and grabbing onto the edge of the mattress as I slide down, pushing her thighs up.

She’s already glistening. I rub myself over her slick folds and then sink all the way inside her, groaning loudly as I rock my hips.

She likes it fast and rough. I bite my lip as I watch her through lidded eyes. Her breasts bounce with every movement and she hangs on tight as I pull her leg straight against my chest.

She giggles. “You and feet,” she teases.

I wink and kiss her toes. “I like your fucking feet,” I admit. “They’re pretty.”

“Maybe I’ll let you fuck them sometime.” She grins and I chuckle. No matter what I say I want, she never misses a beat.

“Let me see that ass, lover.”

I pull out and she turns over, laying on her belly. I smack her ass, watching it bounce before I enter her again, then reach up to grab her wrists, pulling her arms behind her so I can pump into her fast and hard.

I listen to all the delectable sounds she’s making and decide that I want to be as close to her as I can while I look into her eyes.

I stop, pulling out again so I can turn her over and stretch out on top of her.

“You’re indecisive today,” she observes gently.

I smooth her hair back from her forehead and kiss her softly, guiding myself back into her and starting to move my hips slowly.

She wraps her arms around me and lifts her legs, tightening them around my sides.

She throws her head back and grabs my ass and I move faster, leaning up to find her lips again. Her breasts bounce against my chest and I squeeze her shoulders.

“Robin…” I breathe heavily as I near my climax.

“Are you close, Negan?” she whispers against my lips.

“Yes!” I gasp. I force my eyes open, holding her head in place so I can stare into her eyes. “Are you gonna fucking come with me, lover?”

“Yes, Negan.” She shifts her hips and I push forward, going as deep as I can, pumping her hard just like I know she likes it. She looks up at me, panting, her hands running up and down my back, squeezing and stroking my taut muscles.

I feel her get unbelievably tight right before she comes around me. “Oh, Negan, yes! Yes yes yes yes yes! Fill me up, lover!”

I groan as I let go. I love it when she calls me that. It’s usually a nickname that only I use, but it slips out of her every once in a while.

I work my hips, keeping her orgasm going as I spurt rope after rope of thick come inside her. She groans in satisfaction as I collapse on top of her and still, trying to catch my breath.

“Sorry,” I apologize. “I’m too heavy.”

She runs her fingers through my hair. “You’re not,” she assures me. “I like your weight on me.” Her hands tease my sides, tangling in the dark curls of hair on my chest and belly, and I squirm.

“I want to make you come again, lover,” I tell her. Once is never enough when she pays me a visit.

“You’re not going to hear any complaints from me,” she agrees.

**Robin**

We have sex for hours. When we finally stop, the sun has almost set.

Negan kisses my cheek and heads to the kitchen for a moment. I pull on his discarded t-shirt and go to sit on his porch, putting my feet up on the railing and lighting a cigarette.

Negan has never left me unsatisfied. It’s one of the reasons I keep coming back. The man has incredible stamina and skill, along with a great sense of humor.

And my goodness, is he handsome. Especially when he flashes that Cheshire Cat grin.

I know he wants more than what he have, though he’s never complained. It just all fell together easily when we started seeing each other, and I guess it became unspoken between us that we wouldn’t talk about anything serious.

It’s not that I would mind. But my life is… well, complicated doesn’t even begin to describe it.

Negan returns, once again wearing his track pants. It’s still hard for me to picture him teaching high school. He’s so vulgar and irreverent, even though I know he really does care deeply about people.

He sets a cup of coffee in front of me. The first time we slept together, he offered me a scotch. I told him that I don’t drink. He’s never asked me why or questioned it, and now he always has coffee with me instead when I come over.

He’s never been to my place, of course. And again, he’s never asked.

I smile up at him as he takes the cigarette from between my lips and takes a drag on it himself. “This shit’ll fucking kill ya,” he observes, sitting down beside me, leaning over and nuzzling my neck.

I chuckle deep in my throat. “Cigarettes aren’t going to kill me.” I don’t smoke that often, though I always have some cigarettes on me in case I need cover to approach someone. Asking for a light is a pretty common thing to do, after all.

Negan gives the cigarette back to me and rubs my thigh. “You’ve never told me what you do for a living,” he starts nonchalantly.

“You’ve never asked,” I tease. Impulsively, I add, “I’m a hitman.”

Negan laughs heartily. “Okay, okay. You don’t have to fucking tell me, lover.”

It’s the first time I’ve said it to someone outside the world I move in. Not that I expected him to believe it.

There’s a moment of silence, and for the first time since I saw him in that dingy little bar, it’s laced with awkwardness.

“Robin, can we talk?” Negan finally asks. His voice is quiet and introspective.

I freeze. I want to talk to him. I really do. But I’m afraid that if he asks me to open up to him and thinks that I’m still lying that it will end everything that’s between us.

My phone suddenly blares Bauhaus’ “Bela Lugosi’s Dead.” It’s the ringtone I jokingly use for all of my clients.

“This is work,” I tell Negan. “Can you give me a minute?”

“Of course, lover.” He kisses my forehead before he goes back inside.

I sigh as I see who’s calling me, but hey, a girl’s gotta eat, right?

“Shane,” I answer smoothly. “What can I do for you?” It’s best to make him get right to the point, or he’ll try to small talk forever.

I slept with him a few times after we first met and it turns out he’s a little nuts. The downside about being good in the sack is guys don’t want to give up on another shot at you.

“How are you, babygirl?” Shane tries anyway.

“Busy,” I reply curtly. “So tell me what you want or I’m hanging up.” Shane is useful, don’t get me wrong. He’s a cop, and he’s helped me with a few sticky situations. But there’s a point where it’s not worth the trouble anymore.

“No need for the cold shoulder, sweetheart,” Shane protests. “I need you to check out a cemetery. They’re moving it because someone bought the land, and I think there might be a few vamps hanging out there.”

“How much?” Shane is notorious for seeing if he can get you to do something as a favor to avoid paying.

“Can’t throw me a bone, can you, babygirl?”

“I’m a hitman, Shane, not Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t do this because I want to be a hero and save the world. I do it because I happen to be good at it and I need to make a living.”

“All right, all right. Normal going rate? I’ll throw in dinner for free after.”

“Keep your dinner. I assume you want me to check it out tonight?”

“Yeah. Moving crew is starting tomorrow morning.” He gives me the address.

“I’ll let you know what I find.” I end the call, finish my coffee and cigarette, and head back into the house.

“I have to go. Work emergency.” It occurs to me that Negan’s going to think I’m skipping out on him on purpose because I don’t want to talk, so I grab his arm and lean my head against his shoulder briefly. “I’m not running out on the talk, Negan, I swear. I’ll call you when I’m free?”

“Sure, lover.” He slips his fingers under my chin and leans down to give me a kiss.

I retrieve my bag from my van and put on the set of real clothes I always have with me. I kiss Negan one more time after pulling my hair back into a short, messy ponytail.

“I miss you when you’re gone, lover,” he confesses.

“I miss you when you’re gone too, Negan.”

It’s the truth, but I don’t know what to do about it.

****

I pull up to the cemetery, grabbing my flashlight and folding shovel after throwing my cross around my neck. The gate is, of course, locked, but luckily the construction equipment is already here. I climb up on top of the digger and I’m able to clear the wall, and there are boxes of supplies on the inside of the cemetery that form makeshift stairs.

I hop down to the spongy ground, shining my flashlight at several of the graves, and see why Shane assumed there are vampires here. The dirt covering some of these graves is tented out, like something is pushing up from underneath it.

Some vampires hide in cemeteries because they find that they’re less likely to be bothered. It’s also harder for anyone who wants to kill them to get at them because cemeteries tend to have workers and visitors about during the day. But they usually hang out in mausoleums, and there are no mausoleums here.

It would take one fuck of a paranoid vampire to bury themselves fresh every day, but I’ve seen weirder things, so I’m not ruling anything out. And with the hypnotic powers most vampires possess, it would be easy enough for them to find someone to feed from and then have that person bury them before dawn.

But something’s bothering me about that supposed scenario.

It’s already dark. Why aren’t these vampires up yet? Granted, vampires don’t have to feed every night. Most of them only have to feed once every few months. But generally, they’re still up and about.

And they’d definitely get suspicious if they heard someone enter their hiding place after nightfall.

I’ve been doing this for a while. My instincts are good, and they’ve kept me alive in bad circumstances more than once.

They’re screaming at me now.

I sweep my light over the headstones. Every single one in the row I’m in has a carving of a stylized cross with a V in the center of it.

I check the next row. It’s the same.

The symbol used to be a standard warning to those in the know that there were vampires nearby.

Vampires that had been contained, but were still alive.

A stake slowly pokes out of the ground of one of the graves in front of me.

Staking a vampire will pin it in place and partially destroy its heart. But complete destruction of the heart is necessary for them to really be dead.

And, if they have enough time, they can eventually free themselves from the stake.

Suddenly, stakes start to emerge from the ground all around me. I swing my flashlight in a circle and realize that it’s happening all throughout the cemetery.

I am standing in the middle of what is, essentially, a mass vampire grave.

They must have all been staked around the same time. Which is why they’re all waking up at the same time.

And they are all going to be starving.

When vampires are starving, they eat uncontrollably.

They’ll eat everything. Not just blood. Flesh, organs. They’ll snap bones and suck out the marrow.

Another stake pops up from the grave I’m standing on.

“Well, that’s just fucking great,” I mutter.


	2. It Starts with an Earthquake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vampires start popping out of the ground like daisies. Robin calls in reinforcements. Negan makes a confession when he realizes that his life is in danger. A serious conversation is had.

**Robin**

The ground shakes as what has to be hundreds of starving vampires start to claw their way up to the surface. “Balls,” I observe succinctly.

Then I run.

I’m not stupid enough to think that I can take this many vampires on. Especially when they’re frenzied like this.

“Christ! On! A! Mother! Fucking! Cracker!” I grunt as I jump back up the boxes and heave myself onto the digger. I roll to the ground and make a beeline for the van, hopping into the driver’s seat and peeling out.

I dial Shane as I careen down the road.

“Hey, babygirl, you done already?” he greets me.

“Cut the shit, Shane!” I holler. “That cemetery was full of staked vampires! Hundreds of them! Every single grave! They must have all been put there at the same time, because now they’ve worked their stakes out and they’re swarming! We need to call everyone we know!”

Shane laughs. “Babygirl, stop yanking my chain. You sound crazy.”

“I’m not, Shane! I’ve never been more serious in my goddamn life! We have to stop them! They’re going to rip through the population! Some of them might recover, but the ones who don’t will start overfeeding, and then they will infect their victims! We’ll have a fucking vampire epidemic on our hands!”

I hear nothing on the other end of the line. “Shane!” I shriek. “Are you fucking listening to me?!”

Then I shriek again as a ragged vampire that looks like a skeleton jumps in front of the van.

I floor it and drive over the creature, feeling the thump as it hits the asphalt and goes under the wheels. It won’t kill it, but it might stop it for a while.

I’m trying to think of what the fuck I’m going to do. The most vampires I’ve handled at one time was five, and that’s considered a big damn nest. I am not equipped to kill this many vampires. As far as I know, no one is.

And there’s no hiding this from the regular world. It’s going to be a PR nightmare of epic proportions if we survive it.

As I consider the real world, I abruptly hit the brakes.

Negan’s house isn’t far from this cemetery.

I check the rearview mirror and see that the vampires are everywhere. They’re howling and running off in every possible direction.

What if they run right to him?

He could die.

Or he could change.

The thought of him becoming what I kill for a living turns my stomach.

“Shane.” My voice is much calmer than I really feel. “Just call every contact you have. I’m going to do the same.”

I hang up, then dial Negan’s number and start to drive as fast as I can to his house.

“Hey, lover,” he answers. “Done already?”

“Um…” I bite my lip as something lands on the roof of the van. “Hang on!”

I swerve from side to side until I hear the vampire roll off of the vehicle and crunch onto the road.

“Robin?” Negan sounds worried. “Have you been in an accident? Where are you? Let me come get you.”

“No!” I yell, grimacing. “Sorry,” I apologize. He’s going to think I’m insane. “No, Negan, I’m all right. I’m coming to you, okay? Whatever you do, whatever you hear, please do not leave your house. And don’t invite anybody in! Lock the doors and shut the curtains and just wait for me!”

I hear Negan clear his throat. “Robin, what are you talking about? You don’t sound all right. Where are you?” he repeats. “I’ll come find you.”

“No!” I protest again. “No, Negan, no! Please! I…”

What do I say to get him to listen? It won’t take me long to get to him, but all it will take is a moment to change everything.

“Negan?” I finally ask. “Do you trust me?”

He replies without hesitation. “Of course I do, Robin.”

“Then do what I say, please,” I beg. “I’ll explain when I get there. If you have any garlic or lemons, get them. Any crosses you might have or can make out of something. Anything sharp that you could use to stab someone. Please, please, just listen to me.”

“You weren’t lying about being a hitman, were you?” he realizes suddenly.

“No, I wasn’t,” I confess. “I’ll be there soon. I’ll call back as soon as I can. I have to call a few other people before I get there.”

“Am I going to die?” Negan blurts out.

I pause. “You might,” I admit. My heart drops into my shoes.

“I love you, Robin.”

“I know, Negan. Just hang on. I’m coming, okay?”

I hang up, hoping that it’s not the last time I ever speak to him.

Shit.

He said he loved me and I went all Han Solo on him. I should have said it back, right?

Shit.

Do I love Negan?

I shake my head. I cannot have a relationship crisis right now.

Vampires first. Love later.

I call Michonne. She’s a hunter in the next closest city and can start a phone tree. Then I call Daryl Dixon and his brother, Merle. They’re expert vampire trackers and should be able to help me figure out where all these fuckers went if it’s not obvious.

Then I call a few clients of mine. Abraham Ford, a sergeant in the military. I helped him deal with an outbreak at a nearby base about a year back and created a network of skilled combat contacts. Edwin Jenner, a doctor who works for the CDC. His wife got killed by a vampire, and I killed it for him. He’s been looking into vampire DNA ever since. He hasn’t found anything worth noting lately, but any help he can provide will be useful. And Eugene Porter, a self-dubbed “creature enthusiast” whose dumb ass I pulled out of a vampire nest in his neighborhood who now spends his free time making weapons to use against vampires. He has me test them for him, and surprisingly, most of them have worked pretty well.

After I’ve briefly explained what’s going on to each of them, I call Negan back.

When he answers, it’s not good.

**Negan**

“Robin!” I shout into the phone as I pick up. “What the fucking fuck is this?”

My window shatters. All I can hear is hissing.

“They can’t get in, Negan! You have to give verbal permission! I’m almost there!”

Garlic? Stakes? They can’t enter unless they’re invited?

“Are these fucking vampires?!” But that’s just not possible…

“Yes, Negan, they’re vampires.” I hear her van squeal up my driveway. “I’m coming in!”

A door slams. A few seconds later, she screams, “Shit on a shingle!”

Then she flies through my window. I open my arms reflexively and catch her against my chest, all my breath rushing out of me as we tumble back into the couch.

I look down at her. “Hey, lover,” I say softly. “Are you all right?”

I know the moment is weird, but I’m happy to see her again.

“Hey.” She stands and looks down at her torn shirt, wrinkling her nose. “Fuckers nabbed my cross before I could use it, but other than that, I’m fine. At least the window was already broken.” She brushes a few shards of glass from the fabric in irritation.

“A cross works?”

She shrugs. “Yeah. Nobody knows why. They’re just afraid of them.”

“Would these work?” I hold out my arms and show her my two cross tattoos. There’s a big one on my right shoulder and a smaller one on my left forearm.

Robin blinks curiously. “I don’t see why not.”

She runs to the window and opens the curtains.

I rear back as I see that the frame is crowded with several hungry vampires.

And they are unmistakably vampires. They’re all thin and gaunt and bright white, clothed in dirty, filthy rags, and their long, glittering fangs are actually scraping against the side of my house.

I’m not usually afraid, and even when I am, I don’t usually show it. But now I slide carefully behind Robin, my hands tight around her waist. “What do I do?” I ask her quietly.

She looks over her shoulder and up at me. “I’m going to have to stand you in front of the window.”

I’m actually trembling. “You won’t let me get hurt?”

She turns in my arms and looks up at me. “Why do you think this is the first place I came, Negan?” she asks gently. “I didn’t want anything to happen to you.” She hesitates like she’s trying to decide if she should say something else. She looks guilty.

I think I know what about. But we can make time for that later.

“Show me what to do, Robin,” I urge her.

“Okay,” she agrees. “Basically, we have to imbue the crosses with power. It should be enough to scare them away.”

“How do we do that? Invoke God or something? What if I’m, uh, iffy on that kind of belief?”

“The power isn’t religious,” she explains. “It just has to be something you believe in. Something that means something to you.”

She centers me in front of the window. “Just… say it. Whatever it is. If it works, they’ll glow blue.”

I take a deep breath. “Okay.” I bite my lip for a moment, thinking. “I’m ready.”

“I’m right here, Negan.”

I raise my head, swallowing as I look at the monsters outside my window. “Lucille, give me strength,” I murmur.

My eyes widen as my tattoos glow blue.

“Louder, Negan! It’s working!”

I say it again, louder this time. “Lucille, give me strength!” The glow intensifies.

“Again!”

Now I roar the words. “LUCILLE, GIVE ME STRENGTH!”

The blue glow explodes outward from my arms, bathing the window in light so bright I have to look away. The vampires wail in agony and then, abruptly, everything is quiet.

I carefully open one eye and glance around. The blue glow is receding and the vampires are gone.

“Wow,” is all I can think of to say, though it’s woefully inadequate.

Robin sticks her head out around my shoulder. “Damn. I need to get myself some fucking ink,” she observes. “I can’t believe I never thought of that before.”

Abruptly, I sit down on the floor, running my hands through my hair as I sigh and start to shiver. Robin sits down beside me, rubbing my back soothingly as she clings to my arm.

“It’s okay, Negan,” she comforts me. “You did great.” She pauses. “Who’s Lucille?” she wonders. The corner of my mouth lifts a bit as I realize that she sounds jealous.

“My mother,” I tell her. “She died a few years ago. Cancer.” I shrug. “She just always believed in me. I figured I could return the favor.”

“That is so fucking sappy.” Robin nudges me playfully. “You’re a huge fucking pussy, you know that?”

I gaze at her for a second, then snort and start laughing, which I’m sure was her intention. She winks at me and grins as we stand up together.

I run my hands over my face, scrubbing at my beard as I stop laughing and come back to reality. “So, uh, hitman, huh?” I wonder.

She shrugs. “Hitwoman, if you want to be politically correct, I guess. But yes. Vampire hitman, to be exact.” She pauses. “That means I kill vampires, not that I’m a vampire who’s also a hitman.” She shrugs again. “It’s not like I ever have to put it on a resume.”

“I have a lot of questions,” I admit.

“Yeah.” She crosses her arms over her chest and bites her lip. “Look, I’ll answer them all, Negan, really I will, but right now, we need to get somewhere safe. I want to take you back to my place.”

I hesitate. “I’ve never seen your place.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a reason for that. It sort of looks like a serial killer’s lair. A clean, organized one, but still.”

“I… see.” I scratch the back of my neck awkwardly. “I’m being weird. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Negan. I’d be a little worried if you weren’t freaked out, to be honest.”

“Right.” It’s not just that, though. It’s what I said to her over the phone, and the fact that we’re finally having a serious conversation about our lives. I’ve wanted to do this for months.

Robin seems to understand my frustration. “Negan, look,” she says gently, taking my hands in hers. “I… I know we have a lot to talk about, beyond the obvious. But, for now, pack a bag. Grab anything you can’t live without. This… well, it could last a while. I hope it doesn’t, but it might.”

I nod mutely, heading to my bedroom. She follows me, but doesn’t say anything as I grab a hiking backpack from my closet and start to fill it. I make sure to grab all the essentials from my closet and bathroom. For good measure, I change into pants that are a little more durable, adding a belt to them and grabbing a clean white t-shirt before slipping my boots on. I put my tennis shoes in the backpack in case I need them.

I shrug my leather jacket over my shoulders and turn back to Robin to tell her I’m ready. My eyes widen when I notice that her arm is bleeding.

“You’re hurt, Robin.” I go to her, lifting her arm and turning it over so I can look at the wound.

“Oh, that? That’s not a big deal.” She tries to pull her arm back as she brushes me off.

“Not a big deal? Honey, you probably need stitches.”

“Maybe a few. It’s all right. I can do them when we get back to my cabin.”

I sigh in exasperation. “You stitch yourself up, Robin?”

“Of course. My job doesn’t exactly come with insurance. And it would look suspicious if I was constantly in the ER.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “All of the scars you have…” I mutter. “They’re not from playing sports like you told me.”

She has the good grace to look sheepish. “No, they’re not,” she confirms quietly.

“Dammit, Robin,” I complain. “Who looks out for you?”

She bristles and I realize that I’ve hit a nerve. “I’m a big girl, Negan,” she retorts testily. “I can take care of myself, all right?”

“I…” I blow out a breath and run my fingers through my hair as I poke my head back into the bathroom and grab my first aid kit, which I should probably bring with me anyway, right? “Sit down, please?” I request.

She crosses her arms and looks at me angrily, getting her torn t-shirt bloody.

I sigh again and shake my head. “Look, Robin. I get it, okay? You’re a fucking badass. I don’t doubt it. And it’s not that I think you need someone to look out for you, but shit, would someone to watch your back hurt? Those…” I have to force myself to say the word. “…vampires were fucking terrifying. I’m not going to apologize for not wanting the woman I love to die fighting one.”

Her expression softens and she hangs her head. I know she’s thinking about what I just said. She worries her lower lip as she sits down on the edge of my bed and holds out her arm.

“Thank you,” I whisper. I start to clean her wound. She doesn’t show any signs of being in pain, but I’m assuming she’s a little more resilient than the average person. I stuff the slash with gauze, frowning when I realize that I don’t have enough to wrap it.

“Hold that together,” I order her, getting up and going back to my closet. I take out my soft red scarf. My mother made it for me, and I’ve been thinking of giving it to Robin for a while.

I sit down and start to wrap her arm with it. I don’t tell her the significance of the scarf for now.

After yet another painfully awkward silence, Robin murmurs, “Negan…” She scoots closer to me and looks up into my eyes. I put my arm around her comfortingly to show her that I’m listening.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “For earlier. I’m sorry for having to leave when you wanted to have a serious conversation. I’m sorry for scaring you, and for not getting here sooner.”

I shake my head gently to soothe her. None of those things were her fault, after all.

“And I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t say it back.” There are actually tears in her eyes, and suddenly I feel bad. I didn’t want to make her cry.

I’m about to open my mouth and tell her that it’s fine, she doesn’t have to say it back if she doesn’t want to, or if she’s not ready. But then she adds, “Because I do, you know. Love you. I love you, Negan. I just… How was I supposed to tell you without telling you everything? How was I supposed to tell you and then ask you not to be curious about the parts of my life I haven’t shared?”

She wipes away a few tears. “I haven’t had a relationship since I started doing this. I’ve slept around with a few other people who are in the life, but it was never anything serious. I never meant for it to be anything serious when I met you in that bar. But it is serious, and I just… I didn’t know how to ask you to be part of this life. My life. And I’m sorry this happened. I’m sorry you were forced to figure it all out without a choice. I didn’t mean for it to be like this, but I couldn’t stop it. Shit.” She sniffles and wipes away more tears.

Suddenly I realize how hard it must be for her to keep a secret like this. To carry this weight on her shoulders. She called what she does her job, but she must feel some sort of obligation to do it so that other people don’t get hurt. And while the people she directly saves appreciate it, I’m sure, her work probably mostly goes unnoticed.

And she obviously doesn’t have anyone to confide in. No one to vent to. No one to help patch her up or have a warm meal waiting for her when she comes home.

No one who would miss her if she didn’t come back.

I wrap my other arm around her and kiss her temple. “Robin, I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that. I was afraid that if I didn’t say it then, I’d never get the chance. It was selfish. It really was. What if I had died? Then you would have been left alone with that memory and that would have been it.”

She shakes her head fiercely and buries her face in my chest. “Don’t talk like that,” she protests. “I can protect you. I will protect you.”

“I know you will, lover.” She relaxes a bit as I use the familiar nickname. “What I’m saying is that I’m not sorry that you know, but I’m sorry that I rushed it. I’m sorry I lumped it in with all this crazy shit and didn’t give you a moment to think about it. For the record, though, Robin, you’re worth having to deal with all this crazy shit, all right?”

She peeks up at me. She looks incredibly vulnerable. I’ve never seen her like this before. She seems relieved, at least. I think that’s good.

Then she mutters, “Fuck, we’re like the worst fucking Hallmark movie in the universe right now, aren’t we?”

I start to laugh, and suddenly everything seems normal again.

“Wanna fuck?” I suggest, winking. “Then we’re in a porno and it’s okay that we’re bad actors.”

She giggles. “I wish. But we better get out of here.”

“Let me grab my stuff and we will, okay?”

She nods and we stand. I check my things one more time, giving her a moment to collect herself.

I suppose I should be worried. I’ve just learned that there’s more out there than I ever could have imagined. But it doesn’t seem so insurmountable when I know that she’s mine.

I mean, it’s not like it’s the end of the world.

Right?


End file.
